" "Murder him!" cried Trenchard shuddering. Wood had prevented him from paying much attention to the previous scene. Spurlock remained where he was until the sail became an infinitesimal speck in the distance. S. Pramlay received them in the pretty chintz drawing-room, which opened by French windows on the trim garden, with its croquet lawn, its tennis-net in the middle distance, and its remote rose alley lined with smart dahlias and flaming sunflowers. “Silly!” he remarked after a pause. He looked no longer at his wife. ’ ‘Sport!’ grumbled her betrothed, but he accompanied them across the ballroom all the same. ” “Nor I,” said Ann Veronica. “Yes,” she said, very faintly. ‘You would like? And do you imagine that I will tell you?’ ‘Won’t you?’ ‘No, a thousand times.
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